Old, Unhappy, Far-Off Things
by MysteryTrek
Summary: At thirteen, the life of Beatrix Tang changed forever. At sixteen, she, and her two new friends Timmy and Molly find themselves thrust into an epic adventure throughout time, with the survival of the human race at stake. Together they will confront the series of events that led to the modern world, in a perilous adventure that will test them all to the limits of their humanity.
1. In the Realm of Shadows and Silence

A/N: Quick thing. This shares the same continuity as my DP story _Changed Destinies _though that's only in the framing story, and that is structured so you don't have to read the other story.

Also, it's good to be writing this story again. I took it down a long time ago so I could write it better, I'm proud to be putting it back up, hopefully better than ever.

"Liberty and order will never be _perfectly _safe, until a trespass on the constitutional provisions for either, shall be felt with the same keenness that resents an invasion of the dearest rights, until every citizen shall be an Argus to espy, and an Aegon to avenge the unhallowed deed."

-James Madison,

Speech to Congress

1792

A/N: I'm making some minor changes to this chapter to reflect the next chapter's changes.

Chapter One

In the Realm of Shadows and Silence

_Ypres, Belgium _

The setting sun cast its shadows in the nave of the church when the young woman, bundled against the cold winter outside, walked in. She was of average height; about five foot seven, with brownish skin and black hair that flowed to her shoulders. She stared around her, her eyes, accented with her characteristic epicanthic folds, taking in everything around her. The flags of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth countries that lined the polished white walls, the regimental flags flying from above the stained glass windows that bore Celtic crosses. And the seats for the congregation: not pews, but row upon row of seats, six in a row, with each seat cushion bearing a regiment's coat of arms.

Beatrix Tang Minghui sighed, an irrational current of indignation flooding for her. She had been thrown into the past among these men, had seen the horror they suffered in those blood-soaked trenches with her eyes, and the soldier she'd become in the days since, even if they still engaged in the polite fiction of calling themselves "ghost hunters" (as that was still the bulk of their duties) was slightly annoyed at the thought of sitting on a coat-of-arms. Still though, there were no known instances of their ghosts coming back to complain about it, so if they were fine with it, she figured she'd be fine with it. And her feet were sore anyway.

_It's been a year,_ the seventeen-year-old thought to herself as she eased herself into a seat at the far back of the right row. _One year since I almost died with them on that blood soaked hell a century ago, one year since I had to fight to restore _this _timeline, even if it meant ensuring that they fought and died here, even if I had a hand in ensuring the first decades of the twentieth century nearly saw the end of humanity._

_Because we're at least still here in this timeline, we'd finally managed to actually drive ourselves to the edge of extinction in the other one_. _How we managed _that…

She was startled from her reverie when the door to the nave opened and closed again. She looked up, eyes widening, to see a man and a woman walk towards her into the room. The man was only a few inches taller than she was, close-cropped brown hair. The woman was a couple inches smaller than her. She stood there, surprised, her mouth hanging open.

"Timmy, Molly," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"For the same reason you are," Timmy said. "We would pay our respects too."

Beatrix opened her mouth again, and closed it. She had wanted to be alone this day. However, it had been alongside them that she had fought, bled, and very nearly died. They had as much right, and as much obligation to be here as she did herself.

She nodded, realizing in that moment how much she would have missed their presence on this day, even if she would have seen them when she reported for work tomorrow.

The three of them took their seats, and sat silent.

After a moment, Molly gave a deep sigh, crossed herself and said. "Come to their assistance, all you Saints of God. Meet them all you Angels of the Lord. Receive their souls, and present them to the Most High, amen."

"Amen," she said softly, fighting back the tears that threatened run down her face.

"So," Timmy said. "It's been a year. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I think we should," Molly said. "In another year we'll be eighteen, our status as 'ghost hunters' may confer emancipation, but we kept our fairies because we're still technically under the age of majority in our states. In another year we'll lose them regardless. Whether or not we'll lose our memories of what we accomplished here is…still uncertain. And if we do we owe it to them to remember them firsthand at least one last time." And she wasn't referring solely to the BEF and the armies of Imperial Germany, unfortunately.

Beatrix found herself nodding too. "I agree."

Molly looked up at her. She turned to look at Timmy, who was also staring at her expectantly. She sighed. They were right, she supposed. It had all begun with her. All begun with her when she was thirteen years old.

"Oh, all right," she said, not particularly looking forward to dredge up _that _particular set of painful memories either. But Molly, damn it all, was right.

"It all began…"

The sky was the dark blue of the early morning when Trixie Tang stood at the bus stop, staring at the well-manicured grasses and trees that stood, silent and forlorn, across the street from her in Dimmsdale Park. She felt a shiver of fear as she watched those trees. Her former "friends" had a habit of ambushing her from forests, especially Veronica. They liked to move into positions in front of and behind her, charge in, rough her up, before melting back into the foliage and retreating to another bus stop, and acting like they hadn't done anything. After the first three such beatings she had begun to vary her route and her bus stops, never taking the same route or sitting at the same bus stop twice in a row. So far it seemed to be working. So far.

_This won't work forever_, she thought. _Ronnie will have her cronies monitoring the bus stops eventually. One of them will spot me and they'll converge. All because my family has the gall to start having money troubles, _she thought sarcastically. _ Like it's _my _fault I can no longer pay for their shit._

Then again, she knew going in, on some level at least, that that was why they were so interested in being friends with her. She just never imagined that they'd turn on her violently when the gravy train stopped pulling into the station. Until the first time Ronnie slugged her in the face, and allowed their friends, boys and girls both to join in.

_I do hope that my dad's new contract works out, _she thought, thinking of the contract between their relatively upstart Tang Defense Industries, and the far older and more respected Rheinmetall . _I'll actually have money again, not that I'm going to give any of those thugs one cent of it, ever. They'll have to take it from me. _A thought followed thirty seconds later by, _unfortunately they've demonstrated they're willing to do that._

She sighed, looking around her, her eyes and ears peeled for any site, any sound, of the enemy, keeping an admirable hold on her fear for a thirteen-year-old. A slight breeze had begun to blow, ruffling her hair, and blowing through the trees in front of and behind her.

It was then she smelled it. A distinct fruity scent blowing down the wind, a smell that sent shivers of fear snaking down her spine. _Ronnie's perfume,_ she thought to herself. Then she shook herself…and found herself smiling despite herself. _She always did put on too much, and now she's given away her position, _even as she grabbed her backpack and turned and ran down the sidewalk.

* * *

"She's running into a trap," Molly Potter said from behind Timmy Turner as the two watched the large, magically generated map that dominated the far wall of the treehouse. The map was a vast map of Dimmsdale, generated by the small silver object with the golden star sticking out of the front of it. The two of them had put the projection up in Timmy's clubhouse when Trixie, who Timmy still nursed a serious crush on, had abruptly become the target of particularly vicious bullying. Unfortunately, the only way they could help was to use magic, and since that was forbidden, they were stuck watching from afar.

And they had watched. Watched as Trixie played cat-and-mouse, and played it well. But the cat was going to site the mouse again eventually, and despite appearances, Veronica Black was a cunning cat. They had watched as one of her cronies had finally spotted Trixie, then watched as they sent someone else out wearing her favored perfume, in such quantities anyone could smell it. That maneuver had not been without risk, as there was no way of knowing if Trixie was going to run where she wanted them too, and they didn't have enough people to cover _all _the possible escape routes.

Unfortunately, she had decided to run right towards them. He looked at the map, at the cluster of red dots, waiting just around the corner at the end of East Seventh Street, waiting for her to run past so they could strike.

_And they've been denied their prey too long, _he thought, fear for what they may do to her filling him. _They're going to be vicious, utterly vicious when they get her. _

Then it occurred to him. Veronica's plan had a large hole in it by sheer necessity. She only had so many thugs and they were all with her in their ambush positions, save for one bathed in perfume that had sent her into a run.

"We can finally intervene," Timmy said softly.

"How?" Molly said, and then she saw it too. And her eyes widened as she saw what he was getting it. "I see. If we can draw Veronica's thugs out of position, get them to chase one of us, the other one can get her to here to safety."

"Yeah," Timmy said. "I figure a bunch of pointy rocks being flung at their heads will piss them off enough for them to give chase. Once I've got them focused on me, you will get her here."

The black-haired girl of middling height nodded then stopped. "Wait, _you'll _be the one to draw them off?" She shook her head. "No, it should be me. I've been in self-defense classes since I was this high," she waved her hand in the general direction of her thigh, "if they manage to corner me I have a chance of fighting my way out."

"If they come at you one or two at a time, maybe," Timmy said. "I saw you when those two high school guys cornered you. You destroyed the one and the other got him and his friend out of there rather than risk your ire. There were only two of them. There are seven in this group."

"Then I'll take half of them with me, but that's a moot point because I have no intention of allowing them to trap me."

"Uh, guys," Swizzle suddenly said from behind her, her face a mask of concern. "If you're going to decide something, decide it now, because she's getting closer."

Timmy let out a deep sigh. "Fine, you'll draw them off." As the two of them moved towards the door, Timmy said. "Don't die, please. I've already lost two friends when Chester and AJ moved way. I don't want to lose you."

She put her hand on his shoulder, surprising her, her…aversion to being touched had improved as she'd gotten older, but she still tended to avoid touching people if she could help it. For her to touch someone else was a strong gesture of affection on her part.

"I'll be fine, Timmy," she said, taking her hand off his shoulder and grabbing her slingshot. "Just get her back here. I'll shake them." As if to punctuate her statement, she grabbed a bag of smoke grenades that they'd bought for paintball off the desk next to her and shoved it into her backpack. She then looked around and grabbed a bag of firecrackers and an old cigarette lighter they'd found lying around the other day.

The sky was still a dark blue and any hint of the sun still a red-orange smear on the horizon when Timothy Turner and Margaret Potter slipped into the foliage across from Veronica and her gang. He picked Veronica out, standing in the middle of the road while the rest of her gang hid, a hateful look on the tall blonde girl's face. Timmy watched as Molly withdrew her slingshot. Picked up a stink bomb and loaded it. She raised her slingshot and drew back, catching Veronica in her sights.

She loosed, and the the stink bomb streaked across and smacked splattering in a dark puce mass across her forehead even as the pungent smell of rotten eggs began to spread on everyone, tickling his nostrils and causing a chorus of groans and swears from the assembled gang. Molly burst forward from the foliage, stepping into the streetlight.

"Hey, douchebags! You can all go fu-,"

"Get her!" Veronica shrieked, her eyes blazing even as the rest of them emerged and converged behind her. "Stop her before she can get away!"

Molly however was already running away back down East Seventh, she sidestepped the way out of one meaty punch from a boy who's fist collided into the girl next to her. She ran down three or four houses before turning back.

"You're all so tough! You couldn't even hit me!"

Veronica shrieked again and tore after her, with everyone else in hot pursuit, the ambush apparently forgotten. After a few moments he poked his head out of the underbrush. The street was clear, though she could still hear them yelling off in the distance.

"Good luck, Molly," he said softly, wishing Cosmo and Wanda were here to provide him with updates on how she was doing. Unfortunately they were in FairyWorld taking Poof to the doctors, and Swizzle would be busy, providing the information she'd need to avoid being drawn into what would be a disastrously short battle. Sighing, he ran down the road, moving to meet up with Trixie. Hoping that she would continue running straight towards him, and not divert somewhere else, like God forbid, into the running pursuit.

* * *

Trixie stumbled down the sidewalk, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that burned her throat with the autumn air, as her sore legs finally wobbled and she pitched forward. She looked around her, seemingly made of shadow in the predawn darkness, she could make out the trees and houses, both on her side of the street, and on the other side. _No convenient alleys or side paths, damn it_, she thought to herself.

"The road ahead is safe now," a male voice said suddenly, and she looked up to see a boy about her age with close-cut brown hair, wearing a dark pink shirt and blue jeans. A boy she recognized. _Timmy, or is it Tommy,_ she thought. "My friend goaded them into pursuing her."

"What do you mean?" Trixie asked, surprised. She didn't think he was lying to her, no it was more that someone she'd been less than nice to would have bestirred himself to help her, and that they were apparently able to do it.

"I mean," Timmy said, an edge of concern on his voice, "she hit them with a stinkbomb than goaded them into following her," Timmy said, and, illuminated in the streetlight, she could see the fear on his face. "She's no doubt leading them on a merry chase, leading them so far out of position that by the time they figure out what she's doing and break off to come kill you, I'll have gotten you out of here."

The look the Turner boy was giving her was clear. _My friend's sticking her neck out for you, so less talking more hiding._

"Let's go," Trixie said quickly, as Timmy motioned to follow him back down the street.

* * *

For her part, Molly sorely wished there had been a better option. Her legs and throat were on fire, but she dared not stop. She'd seen the look in Veronica's eyes, it was the look of someone who needed a victim, and she no longer particularly cared who that victim was. If they caught her, they were going to beat her within an inch of her life, literally. They wouldn't kill her, though. Probably. Like any godparent worth her salt, she'd been helping save the world in one capacity or another since she was _ten _, and she'd seen someone who wanted to kill more than once. And if the look in Veronica Black's eyes was not of someone goaded to murder, it was pretty damn close.

_Still though, I'd rather this not be a one way trip to the hospital, or the morgue, _she thought, _ and I _can_ disengage, I just need to time it correctly. _She sighed, and looked back at the enemy, still chasing her and hurling insults at the tops of their lungs. And despite their threats, their jeers, she smiled. She'd manage to widen the range on them a bit. Also, she was approaching another intersection. Perfect.

_Thank God,_ she thought as she brought her backpack around from her back and reached inside, withdrawing three smoke grenades, _that I always _always _over prepare. _When she reached the intersection, she slowed and ran out into the middle of the intersection, turning to face them before she came to a stop. She watched them. They continued to barrel forward, blood in their eyes, flight-or-fight having robbed them of all sense, made it impossible for them to consider that she maybe had stopped for a reason. One that wasn't necessarily to their advantage.

_What was it Clausewitz once said? _She thought to herself her intelligence belying her years. _War is fought by human beings? I guess I'm about to find out for myself if that's true or not._ She reached into her bag and pulled out three smoke grenades. Setting the fuses to a two-second delay she yanked their pins and threw them so they landed ahead of the oncoming gang. Then she pulled out the firecrackers and cigarette lighter.

Two seconds later the smoke grenades went, blazing as they pushed their filler out as green, yellow, and purple smoke that filled the square. Amid the sounds of coughing and swearing, she charged, yelling at the top of her lungs and flung her handful of firecrackers into the seething multicolored morass before turning and running in the opposite direction as she listened to them popping off.

"She's here!" She heard Veronica half-cough. "Attack!" She heard yelling and fists colliding as they attacked each other in the confusion.

Molly couldn't help but smile as she ran. What she did was almost certainly as illegal as what they were trying to do, but what the hell, they deserved it.

Three minutes later, she collapsed in a heap in an empty basement, bare save for some empty shelves. _One of the few silver linings of any housing collapse,_ she thought to herself, as she breathed heavily in and out. _Plenty of abandoned buildings to hide in. _She sighed and closed her eyes for a minute before yanking her sunglasses out of her pocket.

"All right, Swiz," she said, into the tiny, almost invisible communicator in her ears. "Tactical update, my glasses and Timmy's: my position relative to the enemy and status of enemy movements."

_"Molly,_" she heard Swizzle's voice a second later as the map appeared, projected to her sunglasses. "_That was amazing!_" The cluster of red dots marking Veronica's gang of impromptu thugs had scattered, with everyone heading every which way except in her general direction.

"_You managed to get them to rough each other up pretty good,_" Swizzle said. "_Looks like they're going to ground, you've won." _


	2. Reversal of Fortune

Chapter Two

Reversal of Fortune

"…that abyss from whence no traveler is permitted to return."  
-George Washington to Marquis de Lafeyette  
April 5, 1783

The sun was beginning to rise over the town as Trixie walked down the street towards the school between her two new…acquaintances: Timmy Turner, who was walking on her left, and Molly Potter, who was walking by her right. She was still amazed at what they did, and likely she wouldn't believe if she didn't see the proof still hanging in wisps of multicolored cloud still hanging in the air over Seventh Street after an hour. And the fact that Veronica and her gang hadn't come swarming out of the trees.

"Thank you," Trixie said, finally finding the wherewithal to actually string together complete sentences. She'd been too numb with surprise, both at Timmy leading her to the safety of his clubhouse, and the huge plume of smoke that her real personality told her may well have spelled the end of Veronica's gang as a coherent force. _Emphasis on 'may',_ she thought to herself

Timmy turned, a smile lighting up his face, making her uncomfortably aware of just how handsome his youthful features were. "You're welcome," he said, still staring at her. "Any time," he said a moment later, slightly faster. After another second he shook his head and turned back around, very pointedly did not look in her direction.

She smiled at his backside before she shook the fog from her brain and clapped a hand on Molly's shoulder. "Can walk on ahead a bit more?" She asked quickly, slipping back into the ditzy airhead she'd been pretending to be since she was nine. "I want to give Molly here some makeup tips."

She felt Molly's shoulder stiffen under her hand before she turned to look at her askance right when Timmy said, "Of course," he said quickly, moving quickly ahead. Molly turned back to face her, an annoyed look on her face. She opened her mouth to say something.

"That was a brilliant move you played today, Molly," Trixie said softly, letting her real personality come forward. "But you must know it's only going to work once."

Molly's eyes widened with surprise, her mouth hanging open for a seemingly long moment. After a moment, comprehension dawned in her eyes and she closed her mouth, nodding. "Of course, but I don't think we'll need another brilliant maneuver like that anytime soon."

"Are you sure?" Trixie snapped suddenly, surprised by the harshness, and the fear, in her voice. She sighed, getting the fear and annoyance that writhed in her chest even now back under control. "Sorry. It's just that I know Veronica. She's always been obsessed with me, and I think we're both closeted nerds enough to realize that once obsession turns violent, it's not going to go away so easily. Hell, I shouldn't have let someone like her near me to begin with."

"It doesn't," Molly said softly. "But her gang is not. Hell, they were just looking for a convenient target. That target isn't so convenient anymore, after this morning. It's going to take a lot more than the unstable obsession of one girl to compel them to stay in the field against you. Especially because Veronica's now lead them into a debacle, demoralizing them further. Finally, I've scared the hell out of them."

"And an army that is scared, demoralized and has lost the will to fight isn't an army anymore, and the war is basically over," Trixie said, following Molly's line of reasoning. "Her 'army,' so to speak, maybe gone, but Veronica's still out there."

"I know," Molly said softly, concern in her eyes. "That was the one part of that plan that concerned me. I could strip her gang from her, but at the risk of pushing her over the edge. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, though."

Trixie nodded, then the full impact of what she said hit her. "Wait, 'we?'"

Molly looked at her as though she'd just asked if the sky were blue. "Of course, 'we.' Timmy and I have been friends for a long time, and in all that time, I have never known him to do anything truly important by half measures. He has his faults, but flip-flopping when the chips are down is not one of them."

Trixie smiled nervously. She had a feeling that was the way things would be. However, she'd been burned enough times by people taking advantage of her that part of her couldn't entirely believe it.

Molly smiled at her, and in a genuinely cheerful tone, said, "Besides, it's always nice to find a fellow nerd."

Trixie smiled wider then, "That I wouldn't mind."

After that, the conversation between the two girls turned to lighter topics. When they were climbing the hill that overlooked Dimmsdale Junior High, they were hip deep analyzing one of the great mysteries of English literature.

"Why didn't they just ride those eagles directly to Mount Doom in _The Lord of the Rings_," Trixie pointed out. "Instead of spending three books walking there?"

"The publishers of _The Hobbit _wanted a sequel," Molly said, "and taking the easy way there doesn't make for good fiction. Not that we can complain about the results, of course, it is one of the great works in English literature. Plus the Eagles were meant to be an allegory of the United States and we had a tendency to show up late for every war. So let's just say the Eagles didn't want to get involved until the Black Gate."

"I…can't argue with any of that," Trixie said, after a moment. "Still though, it does kind of get on my nerves, now that I'm not seven-years-old and being read _The Hobbit _as a bedtime story."

"Guys," Timmy said suddenly as they crested the hill. She looked down and sighed, a sudden disappointment flooding her. Sitting at the bottom of the hill was the large squat brown-brick building of Dimmsdale Junior High, and its assorted, more modern, outbuildings. She looked at the two of them, sadness at the thought of leaving genuine friends.

Timmy sighed. "Meet up with us during lunch, and after school." Timmy said, with a sudden air of confidence, and more importantly, authority, that she'd never seen on someone their age. "We'll walk you home."

Trixie smiled, unexpectedly buoyed by Timmy's self-confidence, and intrigued, smiled at him. She began to walk away, when the thought occurred to her. She looked back at him. _He _is _quite handsome_, she thought to himself. _Why didn't I notice that before?_ She walked back over slowly, as his eyes widened, and she grabbed his shoulder before pressing her mouth to his cheek.

After a second, she'd pulled back. Timmy had a stunned look on his face, and what looked to be the beginnings of a goofy smile on his face.

She stood there for a moment, her mind seeming to draw a blank . After a moment, she realized she was mirroring the look in Timmy's face then shook herself. "I'll see you later then," and she hurried off down the hill.

* * *

Timmy watched as Trixie walked down the hill, still wearing a goofy smile on his face as he watched her walk away. He was struck from his love-stupor by a hand suddenly touching his shoulder. She turned to see Molly, giving him a knowing smirk.

"What?" Timmy asked in that instinctive tone people of all ages when they sensed someone was onto something that embarrassed them.

Molly's smirk only widened. "I think she likes you."

Timmy, with proof of that still lingering on his cheek only smiled in a slightly goofy manner for a moment before shaking himself again.

"Right, yeah," Timmy said, perhaps more quickly than he had intended. "Let's get going."

As they walked down the hill, Timmy turned to look at the unquestionably attractive girl walking with him, sudden concern getting to him. Literally from the time they were eleven to now, Molly had been his best friend, his _only _friend. They had saved the world together, helped take care of each other when they'd been sick or scared. The question was, was there something more to Molly's feelings.

He sighed, as he thought back to what had happened to her three months ago. The high school quarterback and his friend had dragged Molly into an alley to shake her down for her money, unaware of the fact of Molly's self-defense training since she was ten. It hadn't ended well for them. She'd damn near killed the one guy…

"_Molly!" Timmy shouted as he ran down the alleyway. He'd been walking to meet up with her for lunch when he'd seen the two hulking guys close in on her, rushing her so they backed her into the alleyway. He'd rushed after them of course, silently cursing the fact that the street was crowded, and that Cosmo and Wanda could neither teleport her out of there or him directly into the fray. When he'd finally got through the crowd, he'd been just in time to witness a dazed Molly (after a lucky punch) dragged further into the alleyway and out of sight of the street. Timmy sick-scared, and not knowing just what they intended to do to her, took off into the alleyway after them. _

_ He managed to round the corner to see one of them pin Molly up against the wall even as the other slammed his fist into her gut. Timmy, knowing that he was almost certainly forfeiting his life, and more importantly not caring, charged._

_ His defiant shout got their attention and the two of them moved off Molly, dropping her to the ground. It was the opening she had needed. Molly's legs scissored out and pulled the one who punched her in the stomach down. In an instant she was on her feet again, as her blonde, fair-skinned would-be mugger struggled to bring himself back to his feet. Her foot shot out and took him between his legs, sending him crashing back down to the sidewalk with a pained grunt. Timmy dodged a punch from his own assailant, only for Molly to grab onto his thighs tight under his butt before leaning back with all her adrenaline-enhanced strength. He watched as physics caused his higher center of mass and his own body weight to flip up and smash him headfirst into the pavement. He moaned feebly from his position on the ground as Molly picked herself off the ground. She turned to look at their other assailant, who'd stood there watching, eyes widened as Molly took down someone twice her mass in under thirty seconds._

_ The two belligerents stared at each other. The other guy glared at them both, mingled defiance and fear in his eyes. Finally after a long moment, something shifted, some change in posture, and he moved to the side, sliding across the wall. Recognizing what he was doing, Timmy shifted out of the way, to allow him a clear path. He helped the other thug off the ground, still moaning in pain as they walked slowly out of the alleyway. _

_ "You okay, Molly?" He said, grabbing her face to look at the shiner surrounding her right eye._

_ "I'm fine, Timmy," she said, a curious tone on her voice. "I'm just feeling a bit…," she shook her head abruptly. "Whoa, I don't normally feel like this when I'm not…"_

_ "Not what?" Timmy said, concerned. "Molly are you-," _

_ Timmy was abruptly stopped and his mind drew a blank when Molly abruptly lunged forward and pressed her lips to him. He stood there a moment, all thought driven from his mind by the unexpected kiss. There was a surprising minty taste on her lips, and he found himself leaning into it before Molly just as abruptly broke the kiss. _

_ He stood there, stock-stunned by Molly's actions. Regardless of the fact that he liked looking at her (he was still a boy at the end of the day, after all), he simply couldn't see himself as anything other than her friend. _

_ Now though, those same feelings, that same genuine lack of any romantic desire beyond appreciating her looks warred with the fact that he had enjoyed that kiss. As well as a mote of anger over the fact that she had essentially forced a kiss he hadn't wanted on him._

_ Molly was staring at her, many of those same feelings reflected on her face. Then she shook herself violently. "Come on, Timmy," she said. "Let's get out of here."_

By the end of the day, the subsiding of the hormones associated with aggression that had spiked during the fight (and Wanda's advice), had made what had happened quite clear. A heightened libido was a common side effect of any life-or-death situation, including combat, and Molly's sudden and out-of-character kiss, and the fact that he'd responded the way he had, were the result, and not the result of any latent romantic feelings on either of their parts. They hadn't brought it up at all since then, and under any other circumstances he would have kept it that way, as a silly mistake made under the influence of flight-or-fight hormones that both could control from then on, and had. She hadn't pressed any sudden kisses to his lips today certainly. Hell he hadn't even thought of it until the moment _Trixie _had pressed her own lips to his cheek. Still though, his own very real sense of honor demanded that he ask Molly about it, if only to ascertain if she truly was okay with it.

"Molly," he said, coming back to the present. "Can I ask you something?"

Molly turned and looked at him, a look of curiosity on her face. "Anything, you know that."

"About that kiss you gave me three months ago?" Timmy asked, and Molly froze like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. "Was there anything more to it? I mean, I'm fairly sure it was your libido spiking after a fight, but still."

Molly sighed. "I was wondering when you'd bring that up."

"You didn't bring it up yourself, and I thought it was best to let bygones be bygones," Timmy said. "Besides, it didn't change things between us in the slightest."

"And you want to be absolutely sure that if you two get together, I'm not going to challenge Trixie to a fight because I'm jealous of her," Molly said, very definite edge of annoyance on her voice. Molly turned to stare at him in that moment, and the look on her face was one of annoyance that matched the tone in her voice, albeit with a very definite understanding of why he was asking mixed in there. "For the record, yes, Swizzle told me the same thing Wanda probably told you, and they're both right. It really was just a stupid slip-up." She sighed, and her face turned sad. "To be honest, I'm sorry I forced a kiss on you like that, I shouldn't have done that. Hell, I half expected you to end our friendship over it."

Timmy walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Why? Over what we both know was a stupid slip-up? You know me better than that. Granted, I may have done something stupid like that when I was ten, but we've known each other too long now for that, and I'm not going to sacrifice the closest friend I've ever had over that."

Molly put her hand on his shoulder as well. "I know," she said with a smile. "And thanks."

They'd gotten to the school when he saw two police cruisers pull up to the curb in front of the school. One bore the green markings of the Imperial County Sherrif's Office, the other bore the markings of the California Highway Patrol.

"Highway Patrol," Timmy said mockingly. "That's a new record for you, Molly."

"Oh, shut up," Molly snapped back playfully. "If they were really here for me, there'd be half a dozen ICSO and CHP cruisers each all screaming in at once with sirens blaring."

"Ah," Timmy said. Then the realization hit him. "If they're not here for you. Then that means, they're here to inform someone that-,"

He was interrupted by the loudspeaker, the morning announcer's stentorian voice booming out. "_Beatrix Tang please report to the Principal's office immediately."_

"We have to go to her," Timmy said immediately, fear blossoming in his chest.

"How?" Swizzle said suddenly, from her normally silent cover as a purple pen in Molly's pocket. "The two of you have to be in class in ten minutes."

"Yeah, but you don't," Molly said, suddenly, a devious smile on her face. "Swizzle, I wish you would go to Trixie and stay with her. When you get to her office, pipe everything you hear to the bud communicators in our ears."

"Right." The pen disappeared abruptly from her pocket.

* * *

Beatrix Tang Minghui sighed as she walked down the corridor towards the principal's office, weaving through the students moving towards their classes as she walked through the corridor. _I _really _hope this has nothing to do with Timmy and Molly's intervention on my behalf earlier today, _she thought to herself. She rounded the corner and saw the office of Principal James Oversteegen at the end. She sighed, wondering if there was any way she could spin this so that they wouldn't crucify Molly. No option presented itself.

She opened the door to find herself face to face with two officers, one in the uniform of an Imperial County sherrif's deputy and one in the duty uniform of the California Highway Patrol.

And her mother. The five foot five Jeanette Tang Xue was still in her dark gray business suit, indicating that she had come straight from work. Her heart sank like a stone when she realized that her mother was paler than she'd ever seen her in her life.

"Mingmei," she said, addressing her by her Chinese given name, her accent noticeable despite having left Taipei for Hawaii then California nearly forty years ago. "I don't know how to explain this but your father." She swallowed visibly and sighed. "Your father is dead."

Her mind was numb as she followed her mother down the hall. The other students lined the hall, just watching as they go. Why they were there hadn't been announced over the intercom of course, but the rumors were already spreading. Most of the snatches she heard suggested nonsensical rumors that seemed to mutate every ninety seconds like bacteria, but still.

"I hear she's pregnant," one girl said. "By a college student."

"Yeah," the boy she was with said. "I here he was like thirty."

"You're both wrong," another boy said. "She shanked some guy right in the kidneys."

_I'll shank _you _in the kidneys, _she thought to herself as she walked by as her anger flared, before being subsumed by the overwhelming sense of sadness that threatened to drown every other emotion out.

They rounded another corner, only to find Timmy and Molly walking up to her, a concerned look on her face. "Mom, hang on," she found herself saying, though her words were devoid of emotion even as she walked over to them. She walked over to the two of them.

"What's going on?" Timmy asked, concern on his voice.

Still amazed that he seemed to genuinely care about her, despite all she'd done to slight him over the years. "It's my dad," she began and…

"Oh, Trixie," he said, and she could hear the genuine sadness on her voice, a she wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so sorry." Trixie felt the sadness, and the urge to cry into someone, _anyone's _shoulder begin to win out. Timmy turned his face towards her, and she thought, and a small part of her was happy, that he was going to kiss her.

Instead, she heard him whisper. "Ask your mom if Molly wants you to sleep over. You still need someone there if Veronica makes her move tonight."

She looked at him quizzically. "Just Molly?"  
Timmy gave her a look like she'd suddenly grew a second head that sprouted random operettas. "Yes, of course just her, do you think your mother's going to let some strange boy spend the night in her thirteen-year-old daughter's room?"

"Oh," she said softly. "Right."

Disengaging from Timmy's arms, she nodded to Molly and motioned her to follow.

"Mom," she began, trying very hard to keep the apprehension out of her voice. "This is Molly…"

She introduced her and after a few moments, asked her if she could stay the night, as she didn't feel like being alone in her room tonight after what had happened earlier.

_That part at least is true, _she thought to himself. _I wouldn't want to be alone tonight even if I wasn't sure Veronica wasn't going to sneak in. And even then I'd probably ask Molly if she could sleepover tonight as it's been too long since I've met a girl I can be myself around._

She stared expectantly up at her mother, who finally gave her one of her rare smiles. "Of course," she said. Turning to Molly she asked, "When can I expect you Miss Potter?"

"I'll be over at around five, Misses Tang," she said respectfully. "And don't worry, in light of what happened, there's not going to be any rowdiness coming from the room tonight, I promise."

Her mother stared at her, surprised by what she said, and perhaps her vocabulary. "I shall hold you to it, Misses Potter. Come on, Beatrix."

She nodded, and walked on. As the two of them walked off, she looked back behind her and winked at her friend.

_Veronica, _she thought to herself, for she knew Veronica, knew that no matter what she was doing, she liked to finish things decisively, and as quickly as possible. _Is in for a nasty shock tonight._


	3. The Long Night of Tang Minghui

"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick."

-_Proverbs,_ 13:12

A/N: I'm playing to the hidden depths Trixie displayed early in the series before she _just _became a vapid airhead, by giving her a Chinese given name that means intelligent, at least according to my big book of character names.

Chapter Three

The Long Night of Tang Minghui

Molly sighed as she followed Trixie up the stairs to her bedroom, looking around her at the extravagant furniture, especially the soft luxuriant carpeting she was walking on. Molly was impressed. Her parent's company had been doing very well for quite awhile. Enough for them to afford a Spanish colonial style mansion in the Blackwood Park area, and all the furnishings that went with it. Not that she held it against her, of course. She wasn't one of those people who thought that wealthy people were, to the man and woman, greedy Scrooges who got their wealth by robbing the "little guy" blind, but she couldn't help but be a tad jealous.

_Not jealous, _she amended a heartbeat later. _Envious. I don't begrudge her any of it, of course. _

Then they walked off the stairs and across the landing to the double doors that marked her bedroom. Trixie pushed them open, and Molly's eyes widened as she followed her friend inside. The room was huge, easily as big as both her living room and dining room in her small house in Colonial Plains. She couldn't help but be a tad envious of the large flat screen HDTV that dominated the wall in front of her bed.

What Molly was most definitely _not _envious of was the revolting shade of pink that seemed to dominate everything else. The four-poster bed had pink curtains, a pink comforter, and pink pillowcases. There was a pink rug in the middle of the floor. And there were pink hearts _everywhere_.

"You don't approve of the color scheme do you?" Trixie asked.

"Well," she began trying to phrase her answer in the least offensive manner possible. _Is "I want to rip everything pink off these walls, start a bonfire in the backyard and leap around it in my underwear" inoffensive? Probably not. _ None unfortunately presented themselves and she finally just muttered out. "No."

Trixie smirked, though it was one devoid of genuine joy. "It's okay. To be honest I don't much care for it either."

"Then why-,"

"Because it was what would make me popular!" Trixie snapped, glaring at her as her eyes blazed. Trixie let out a deep sigh as she forced herself to unclench her fist. "I'm sorry about that, but you must understand, Molly. I wasn't what you would call a stereotypical girly girl. When I was seven and eight, instead of playing with my dolls, I was wearing cardboard boxes as suits of armor and pretending I was out slaying dragons. We were living in Honolulu at the time and surprisingly the other boys didn't put me down for it, frequently playing with me. A few of the other girls who were more like me would join in, but the others…." She shuddered. "They were horrible to me. Spreading nasty rumors about me behind my back, cutting me out of _every goddamn social occasion they could and get away with! _Eventually when my parents and some of my dad's Raytheon co-workers announced they were forming Tang Defense Industries, and said they were moving to California, I dared to hope. Hope that the California kids weren't as…mean as the ones I'd been dealing with since I was old enough to form clear memories."

"And it turned out they were just as bad," she continued.

Trixie nodded, eyes beginning to glisten as the tears began to back up. "In their own way, instead of being aggressive shits, they were just…cold. They just ignored me, even the boys. Finally, I just had enough. There's only so much abuse one person can take before they'll say or do anything to make it stop."

_Why doesn't this poor girl have a godparent already?,_ she thought to herself, empathetic sadness welling up within her, as she put her hand on Trixie's shoulder. Trixie looked up at her, hope in her eyes. Hope that at last she'd found a girl who could understand her.

And in truth she had. The circumstances under which she had received Swizzle hadn't exactly been different. She had been bullied for not being a girly-girl to. Add on top of that a father who had abandoned them, and a mother who couldn't always ensure her daughter could go to bed with food in her belly, despite her best efforts. The situation had improved by the time she was ten, with her mom's remarriage, and her getting a higher paying job, but still she would never shake the memory of those nights her belly rumbled and there was nothing to fill it with.

_So why not her?_ she thought to herself. _Sure's she's better than off than I was at the time, but socioeconomic status and happiness aren't connected, and plenty of godchildren of all social strata had gotten godparents for less than what either one of us had to endure. _

"It doesn't seem worth it anymore, does it?" Molly asked aloud.

Trixie's sad eyes hardened. "No," she said coldly, though she knew that coldness wasn't directed at her. "It didn't last, and I'm tired of keeping who I truly am literally in the closet." The other girl sighed. "You know, my father didn't approve of this. Of any of this. He would have preferred that-," and she shook her head. "Oh, I'm so sorry, _baba_," she said, starting to sob openly. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, I'm sorry for everything."

Molly walked over and put her arms around her, desperate for someone to hold her, impulsively threw her arms around her, and sobbed into Molly's shoulder. Molly had tightened her arms around her friend when the lights dimmed. She heard a humming sound behind her followed by the crackling of energy. It was a sound she'd heard before, back when she'd been at her lowest point. It was a sound the newfound friend sobbing her eyes out in her arms _should _have heard for herself a long time ago. All sobbing from said friend had ceased, as she stared at the vortex beginning to form behind her.

"What the hell-," she began.

"It's okay, Trix," Molly said, disengaging from her, and turning around to stare at the rapidly expanding gold and purple ball of energy floating in front of the door. "It's not hostile, and to be perfectly honest, you should have been visited by this when you were still in Hawaii."

Trixie looked at her quizzically, but any words she was going to say were interrupted when, the ball of energy exploded into a vortex with a loud bang. _Thank God for small favors,_ she thought to herself. _ Her mother had to leave to finalize that deal, _she thought, _no reason to have to come up with some sort of explanation for the momentary power drain._

The vortex gave another large boom, before it disgorged a small blue-haired fairy woman in black pants, green shirt and with blue eyes.

"Greetings Beatrix Tang," the fairy said as the vortex collapsed into itself and faded, "my name is Emma and I'm _your Fairy Godmother!" _

"Excellent," Molly said, her snarky side bristling. "Why the hell wasn't she assigned one when she was eight."

Emma narrowed her eyes at her. "Pardon me," she said almost too calmly as she raised her wand towards her, presumably to wipe her memories. "But you're not-,"

"I authenticate Mike Alpha Papa Oscar One-One-One Two-Eight Bravo Sierra Whiskey."

The wand's automatic programming regurgitated the proper response back in a monotone feminine voice. "_Code and voiceprint godchild identification confirmed. Margaret Potter, godparent Swizzle_."

"Right, sorry," the fairy, Emma said a tad embarrassed, lowering her wand. "Training you know?"

"Of course," Molly said nodding. She turned to Trixie. "I suppose this is quite a shock to you." Trixie however, still looked like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. Finally, she turned to look at her, her eyes widened, and her pupils contracted to their furthest possible state.

"What," she said, her voice voice pitched high and cracking with shock and disbelief "How?" Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she began to fall to the floor. Molly reached out and grabbed her before she could crash into it.

Swizzle popped up from her cover as a pen in the pocket of her duffel bag. "Hey, Emma,"

"Hey, Swizzle," the other fairy said, with the voice of easy familiarity. "Long time, no see."

"I hate to interrupt your little love-in," Molly said, harsher than she intended, but then if her friend hadn't collapsed and no one seem to care, she wouldn't have much cause to be angry. "But you're godchild just fainted from the shock of seeing you for the first time. Can you get her into bed?"

"Oh," Emma said sheepishly. "Right."

* * *

Flashes of light pierced the darkness that enveloped Trixie, getting brighter and brighter before her eyes flew fully open in a bright burst of light that resolved into the fair-skinned and dark-haired features of Molly Potter.

"Molly?" She asked, still groggy, even as her mind picked up on the fact that it was in bed. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Molly said, relief noticeable on her voice. "You've been out cold for ten minutes."

"I should go see a doctor, before I passed out I hallucinated that I saw fairies in the room," Trixie said, still slightly groggy. _Because nothing like what my subconscious mind decided to dredge up and throw at me can exist outside my comics. _

"That was no hallucination," Molly said calmly, a smile on her face. "That really happened." She shifted out of the way, to reveal floating behind her, an embarrassed look on her face, the same blue-haired woman floating about five feet off the ground. "Beatrix Tang meet Emma. Emma, Beatrix Tang."

"It's nice to meet you," the creature, _Emma,_ Trixie thought to herself, _she has a name, and it's best not to do anything to provoke creatures like this. _ "You've had a very hard thirteen years Miss Tang, you'll only have me until you're eighteen, and it's my job to help you navigate the remainder of your minority as best I can."

_God help me I think she means it,_ Trixie thought, wondering why she wasn't surprised. "How?" She asked curiously.

"By granting you an unlimited supply of magical wishes," Emma said crisply, a smile on her face. "But there are stipulations attached."

"What sort of stipulations?" Trixie asked, genuinely curious. _Now that I'm sure I'm not dreaming or insane._

"There's a huge set of rules to follow," Molly said, crossing her arms and leaning against her bed. "Though fortunately you don't have to learn all of them at once; any order that conflicts with regulations causes the wand to reject it."

"The system is designed to keep godchildren from becoming drunk on the potential power having an unlimited supply of magical wishes," Emma said. "For example, you can't raise the dead, wish for "super" versions of anything, wish anyone dead directly, bypass the free market by gaining immense wealth out of nowhere, and that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Unfortunately, another female voice said from next to her, and she turned to view the purple-haired fairy that had been revealed to be assigned to Molly. _Oh, right, she does have a…godparent. Does _everyone _I know have a fairy attached to them? What's next, Timmy? _"some godchildren use us as personal servants, overworking us until the FairyWorld authorities have to intervene. Little Miss Bossy Pants here," she says, gesturing with her head at Molly, "has a habit of it."

"Hey, I only had to go to rehab once!" Molly said indignantly, her voice cutting through Trixie's still slightly disoriented mind like a chainsaw. "Twice," she amended a moment later.

"Okay, everyone be quiet," Trixie said, as a headache began throbbing close to her right ear as she attempted to take in everything at once. She closed her head and sighed, as she waited for the searing pain to subside. Finally, after about a minute, her head began to clear she felt her stomach grumble. _I haven't eaten since this morning,_ she thought to herself, abruptly reminded of what had happened. _I suppose I should do something about that._

She turned and regarded Emma curiously. "Can you make food?" She asked, curiously.

Emma gave her a wide smile. "Of course," she said as though that were a silly question, which admittedly it probably was, "you have an unlimited supply of magical wishes for a reason, one of which is not starving. What are you hungry for?"

"I want a quesadilla," she said after a few moments of thought, "The Mexican variation, with Oaxaca cheese and black beans. I want my sides to be guacamole and sour cream, and I want a bottle of root beer with it."

Molly's face lit up at the description of the food, a wide smile breaking out on her face. "Ooh, Swiz, I'll take that, but make my drink a cherry coke."

Emma raised her wand into the air, the golden star at the end glowing with a bright light. "One quesa-,"  
"Wait!" Swizzle voice snapped through the air, so sharp they caused her to wince. "Before we do that, Emma, there's one thing you forgot. She's a godchild now, our laws requires that she be made fully aware of her previous dealings with us before any wishes are granted."

A dead silence fell over the room. Trixie stared at Swizzle, eyes wide, shock coursing through her. It was another moment before she was finally able to get out the words. "'Previous dealings,'" she said after a moment, turning to look at Molly, "what previous dealings?"

Molly, her eyes wide themselves, swallowed visibly and gave a distressed sigh. "I was wondering how this topic was going to be addressed. You know your…interactions with Timmy over the past three years?"

Trixie sighed, pangs of regret filling her. "Yes." _I'm not delusional, I know I can be self-confident to the point of arrogance sometimes, but that's no excuse. _You _envied those girls. _You _remade yourself in their image. _You_ let your arrogant streak explode into something perilously close to full on narcissism and as a result genuinely believed that people like Timmy and Molly were trash unworthy of the ground you walked on. _

"A lot of those events were events that were subsequently either erased from the timeline or your memories of those events were erased because of the direct intervention of Timmy Turner's fairy godparents. The rest of the times, the one's you remember, they were there, but because you didn't have direct contact with them, they didn't wipe your memories. There was however one, major incident that bears mentioning…"

* * *

_Ten minutes earlier_

Timothy Michael Turner sat at his desk in his treetop clubhouse, watching the orange-red sunset on the horizon, resisting the urge to anxiously pace. He'd just sent the two women he cared most about in the world after the women in his family into the lion's den, and he couldn't be there with them. He'd of course have Cosmo and Wanda poof him there if they needed the help, but he hated going insane with worry over it.

_No, _he thought to himself, as he looked at the tactical map of Dimmsdale projected onto the wall. _My job is to do my homework for right now, and provide the advance warning that Veronica's on the move. I hope she has been reduced to a lone wolf. If it's just her, she's well placed to meet the threat, and knowing her, she'll have Veronica down and out within five minutes. If her army's still in the field…we'll work on that when we come to it._

He shuddered at the thought of what one lone lunatic can do if he or she achieves complete surprise. He'd snuck a look at one of the crime dramas on Investigation Discovery when he was eleven and he was well aware of what Ted Bundy had done in that Florida sorority. He wasn't saying it was going to be a repeat of that, but the last thing anyone, least of all Trixie needed was her alone in the house and asleep only be awoken as Veronica did…whatever she was going to do.

Which is why he'd sent the person who'd spent two years in self-defense classes with her. Molly and Trixie were not to be more than a few feet from each other at any given time, and since it was doubtful either was going to sleep until it was over, she'd be awake to protect Trixie. If it came to it tonight, and he hoped to God it did not.

_"Hey, Timmy," _Molly's voice suddenly cut through her reverie, startling him out of his chair. Heart racing, he turned to view Molly staring at him a stunned look on her face, from the mirror on the far side of the wall. Timmy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, it's just you," He said, before noting her face. "What's up," he said, "is something wrong?"

"_No,_" she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "_Nothing's wrong, just…unexpected,_" she sighed. "_Apparently you're godparents have been busy beavers today. I don't know how they managed to do it but they got Trixie a permanent godparent._"

Timmy stood there for a long moment, staring at the girl in his mirror. Veronica had surrendered herself to the police on live television, or an army of mystical warriors had arrived and sworn to protect Trixie, anything would have been more foreseeable than that.

"Are... you sure?" He finally found himself asking when he felt his mouth begin to work again.

Molly nodded. "_Yes, sir_," she said, surprise still on her voice. _"She checks out and everything_."

Timmy smiled, his heart beginning to race, but from a far better sensation then the infarction Molly nearly gave him. _If she has a fairy now, that means her memories will be restored, that means she'll remember what happened during the Darkness crisis._

"How's she taking it?"

"_Well, she fainted,_" she said.

Timmy couldn't help but chuckle at that. He distinctly remembered blacking out from the shock of seeing Cosmo and Wanda the first time too. "Don't we all."

Molly smirked this time. "_Yeah._" Then just as suddenly the smirk was gone. "_Look, if I may it's time you headed over. She's going to have a lot of questions after I bring her around, and she's going to need more than just me._"

"But what about her mom?"

Molly shook her head. "_She went back to work,_" at Timmy's widening eyes, she held up her hand to forestall the angry rant that was building in his mouth. "_Her husband died taking a bullet for one of the Rheinmetall execs he was meeting over lunch. It got them their business deal, but, as her husband's designated successor she has to be the one to finish ironing out the kinks. That will likely take the rest of the afternoon and most of the night. Since your parents are going to be gone, why not just come on over?" _ Unspoken was the obvious: one more person was one more body to even the odds if Veronica showed up tonight.

"All right," Timmy said immediately, making him…giddy. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

Molly nodded, another brief smile on her face, before it died once more. "_Listen,"_ Molly said. "_If I'm wrong, and we are facing Veronica _and _her gang tonight, I don't know what'll happen. If-if," _she gave a long deep sigh this time_, "If we die, I want you to know that meeting you in rehab was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You're the best friend I've ever had and-,_"

"Molly," he began, cutting her off. "We'll be fine. We've successfully defeated Lovecraftian abominations from beyond the stars, I think a bunch of idiot thugs isn't going to be too much of a hassle."

* * *

Of course," Trixie said back in the present, leaning back in her chair. "You learned to eat those words,"

"Don't remind me," Timmy responded, shooting her a look with mingled sadness and faint embarrassment. "We beat the real-world equivalent of Cthulu one would think that a gang of low-rent thugs that Veronica gathered with a combination of promise of booty and her putting out would have been child's play."

"For all its faults, Timmy," Trixie said, feeling an urge to hug her boyfriend. "The Darkness wasn't insane, or incompetent. We at least could strategize beating it based on its motivations and previous actions, even at ten, fighting someone as unbalanced as Veronica is less… predictable. There's a saying I read in a book once. 'The best swordsman in the world doesn't fear the second-best swordsman but the worst swordsman in the world, because he can't predict what the idiot will do.'"

Molly's derisive laugh echoed through the all-but empty church. "Yeah, I learned that the hard way."

"We all did," Trixie pointed out. "At any rate, during that period you were going to the bathroom and packing, Emma was unlocking the blocks Jorgen von Strangle put in my memories…

_Trixie struggled against the bright purple vortex that wheeled overhead, the manic, desperate strength of adrenaline flowing through her as she gripped Timmy Turner with both hands, pulling with all her might against the vortex that was sucking him up. _

_ "Timmy!" She shouted, anger and desperation welling up inside him. "Do you like my hair?"_

_ "Perfect," he said, before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers._

Then the world around her broke and shattered, the fear welling up inside her found expression in a desperation inhalation of breath as she once more shot up in bed.

"Forgive me," Emma said, and Trixie heard genuine sincerity on her voice. "Depending on the content of the memories being restored, the process can be…emotionally taxing.'

"I'll say," Trixie said, still hyperventilating slightly. _How do you like my hair, really_ you daft twit? _Another human being was getting sucked into a magical vortex and _that _was the best you could come up with?_ _If we hadn't won…_

She was still having trouble wrapping her head around the fact that she had apparently fought alongside Timmy Turner to keep a gigantic space creature from swallowing all creation, only to turn out it wasn't so evil after all. Then again, she was still wrapping her head around the apparent existence of fairies.

All that paled in comparison however, to the kisses he'd given her over the course of the crisis. She could feel them all on her lips now, and the emotions that had been awoken in her during it. _And I see what Molly was saying earlier. When the chips are down, he _doesn't _do anything by half-measures. He also may be a bit of a jerk at times, but in the end he does the right thing. _

_ And _you_ calling Timmy out as a jerk would be the ultimate expression of the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't it?_

"You okay, Trixie?" Molly's voice said, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked over at her friend to see her giving her a concerned look from the direction of her bedroom door.

"I'm fine, Molly," Trixie said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. "It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"I can imagine," Molly said, walking over and sitting next to her. "It was different for me in a lot of ways. Chief among them being the fact that I'd had no prior experience with fairies before Swizzle walked into my life. It has to be hard, knowing that there's an entire set of experiences that were just yanked away. Timmy tried hard three years ago to get you a fairy to allow you to keep your memories of what you and he were able to accomplish. But to no avail, the most he got them to budge on was 'putting your name on the list for consideration.' It was his fairies that apparently got through the red tape to put your name up for consideration."

"I'd like to meet them," Trixie said, smiling. "What are they like?"

"Wanda is an intelligent, wonderful woman," Molly said, an affectionate smile on her face. "Cosmo is…less intelligent."

"Cosmo is an idiot," Swizzle said somewhat harshly. "Though is heart in the right place. Usually."

"I was trying to be charitable," Molly said testily, "but you're basically right."

A golden explosion of light abruptly burst into the room, instinctively causing her eyes to squeeze shut against the brightness. She opened her eyes when the light faded to see Timmy Turner standing in the middle of the room, with a diminutive pink-haired woman and an equally-diminutive green-haired man next to him. Timmy opened her mouth to say something, then his eyes fell on her, and whatever words he was about to say died in his throat.

Trixie sat there, staring back, her emotions a roil. After a seeming eternity, though it could only have been a few seconds, one emotion came out on top. In a daze, almost, she got off the bed and walked around the bed straight towards Timmy. As she closed on him, Timmy opened his mouth to say something only to have Trixie lean up and press her lips against his. She felt Timmy resist for half a second before leaning into her.

As the two stood there kissing. Molly reached over an took the bag containing Timmy's laptop. Unpacking it she set it up on Trixie's desk before turning it on and logging into the magical threat warning system monitoring Dimmsdale. She sighed in relief as the program reported that Veronica hadn't been detected on the streets at any point in the last fifteen minutes. When the situation changed, and her bad feeling that it _would _change before the night was over hadn't changed, it was set to alert everyone. Loudly. She could only hope that they didn't allow each other to get distracted, especially because they all planned to enjoy this time to the fullest.

_Eat and be merry my friends, for tonight we dine with the ghosts_.


	4. Midnight Clear

"And now his wars on God begin

At stroke of midnight, God shall win,"

-William B. Yeats, "Supernatural Songs" IX "The Four Ages of Men"

Chapter Four

Midnight Clear

Timmy took a long swig out of the bottle of Cherry Coke he'd wished up, and leaned back against the foot of Trixie's bed. He gave a contented sigh: his belly was full, and he'd made out with Beatrix Tang for neither one of them knew how long. They'd only stopped because about an hour ago when they had both came up for air and go to the bathroom, he'd returned to find that Trixie had passed out from the exhausting events of the morning and afternoon. He'd been tempted to wake her up, but she'd looked so peaceful he didn't want to wake her.

So, he'd plopped onto the floor next to Molly and continued their perusal of Trixie's DVD and Blu-ray collection unimpeded. After a moment, however, Molly shoved the box away from her. "I don't want to watch anything else right now. I just want to lie down and relax in the company of my greatest and only friend."

Timmy was about to object before stopping himself. They were almost certainly going into battle soon, what better time, than, to just relax and enjoy Molly's company for what could be the last time. With that, he leaned back against the floor, settling his head against one of the throw pillows that had ended up on it as the night progressed.

"We'll be fine, Molly," Timmy said after a moment, as if trying to reassure himself as much as reassure Molly. "We've both been in worse scrapes before."

"Not quite like this," Molly responded, tension on her voice despite her best efforts to hide it. "Our previous battles, both separately and together have been against opponents who…shall we say, weren't…truly committed. And or were so petty and emotional that otherwise sound plans weren't implemented correctly and had flaws that were glaringly obvious and exploitable by even little kids."

Timmy sighed. "And Veronica isn't that, at least not entirely. What we saw of her actions suggests someone who's finally gone off the deep end, never to return. If we've learned anything from being nerds who read stuff far above are age level it is that love and hate are in many ways flipsides of the same coin, and when Trixie fell off the pedestal she'd put her on, she became not only able, but totally committed to destroying Trixie."

Molly sighed. "Unfortunately you're right. Maybe she's that determined by nature, or maybe it's just the fact that, to paraphrase Doctor Banner, 'her mind's a nest of cats', and she's too crazy to stop on her own or be convinced to surrender. Which doesn't' leave us a whole lot of options for dealing with her when you get right down to it." She sighed. "Sweet Jesus, this shouldn't even be something two almost fourteen-year-olds even should be considering. Then again, this shouldn't be something anyone of _any _age should have to deal with."

Timmy knew what those options she was referring to were, he just didn't like to think about them. Though he was certain he'd do whatever was required. Shaking that uncomfortable thought from his head for the moment, he put his hand on Molly's shoulder. "Whatever happens, I promise I'll have your back always."

Molly smiled, and Molly's iron will was in her voice again when she said, "And I'll have yours."

Timmy smirked. "I know you'll always be there. Remember when you came down with the flu and I had to take care of you over winter break because your mom had to keep working and your stepdad was taking care of his mom for two months after her operation?" Cosmo, Wanda, and Swizzle couldn't make the flu go away with a wand flick, or rather they could, but their own rules disallowed any interference any human illnesses unless they became life-threatening. The logic being that they were only going to have godparents for a short time, so it was best for them to have experience dealing with all the same "normal" illnesses as their peers.

So Timmy had sacrificed his winter break along with hers, taking her temperature, giving her pills (which she had all too frequently vomited back up, along with her food), and staying with her even when she was delirious with fever.

"Vaguely," Molly responded, tilting her head to the side as she tried to think about it. "Everything after about day four comes to me in fits and starts when I try to remember it."

Timmy nodded, that made sense, she had been pretty out of it most of the time. "It was about four days into it, you were increasingly delirious and difficult to reason with. Then came a point when you were laid up in bed with a wet rag on your forehead and what I thought was no real idea what was going on around you. Then you abruptly shouted for me to get down and bounded out of the bed, knocking me to the floor, trying to cover me with your body and shouting at _something. _But it's what you said after you'd gotten me on the ground. 'This boy is my friend,' you said as you stared up and glared at whatever threat you thought was there. 'Don't you dare touch him.' I'll remember that for a long time. " _Because it means even when you're at your worst, nothing this side of the grave can prevent you from being by my side. I can only hope I am half as loyal as that._

"Thank you, Ti-,"

Then the lights cut out, plunging them into darkness save for the glow of the computer screen.

"Shit," Molly swore loudly, as she bounded up off the floor. "She's cut the power!"

"Not necessarily!" Timmy shouted back as he crawled up off the floor even as Trixie stirred in the bed behind him. "Molly, check the window, see if the rest of the street still has lights."

"Right, sir," Molly said slipping into the pseudo-military formality she always used in a crisis before striding over to the window and yanking back the curtain. Molly had made it quite clear since she'd reentered his life at eleven that she considered Timmy the leader in their duo as much as she considered him her friend. Not that that had ever stopped her from arguing with him during a crisis, or in general, but when push came to shove, she almost always backed _him_.

"Whathellhappen?" He heard Trixie say, the drowsiness garbling her words.

"Power outage," Timmy said quickly, "Get out of bed, this might be it."

"The lights are out for the entire street!" Molly said, even as her flashlight clicked on and their godparents teleported in. "I don't like this,, Timmy. If she's going to attack, it's going to come very soon now even if she didn't cut the power. Even a lunatic like her is going to want to strike _now _while she thinks she'll have both the cover of darkness and surprise."

Timmy nodded. "I agree," he said as the smoke detectors shrieked the fact that they were now on battery power throughout the house.

"What about your detection grid?" Trixie asked, not entirely succeeding in suppressing the fear in her voice, as if she expected Veronica and her whole gang, presumably backed up by Imperial Stormtroopers, the Death Eaters, and the Jem'hadar, to come swooping down on them in the next minute or two. "Won't it be affected?"

"It shouldn't," Emma said pointedly. "It is run on magic after all."

Timmy sighed. "Let's just sit in the dark and wait, for either the power to come back on or the computer to tell us it's detected movement."

Timmy sighed, and sat back down on the floor, motioning for Trixie and Molly to join him. They sat cross-legged next to him, the only sounds punctuating the pitch darkness being their breathing, and one of them moving to wake the computer up on occasion. That waiting, however, was like a little slice of hell. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like , after what could only have been fifteen minutes, but felt like at least a couple hours, Molly had gotten up and went to the bathroom, taking her flashlight with her.

"You know, we can get all of you out of this, sport," Wanda said while she was gone. "Give the word, and we can have you all poofed wherever you need to be."

Timmy was about to open his mouth when Trixie's voice cut across his before he could say anything. "No. No, I'm tired of running. If I run now, again, I'll never stop running, and _she'll_ never stop coming. It ends tonight, live or die, _it ends tonight._" Timmy found himself pulling back from the intensity in her voice, but he couldn't disagree with her of course. That was why they were still here already after all.

"You realize we won't be able to help you directly," Emma said, barely hiding the obvious anguish on her voice. She'd only been a godparent for a few hours, and she didn't relish the prospect of watching her first godchild possibly die in battle within a few hours of meeting her. "Help _any _of you, we won't be able to just poof you out of there or give you powered combat armor or something, it would reveal our existence So you'll need to come up with some way to use us that doesn't scream 'Fairy Godparents' to the entire human race. If it comes to that."

She heard Timmy mutter something that sounded suspiciously like. "That would make Crocker's day wouldn't' it.?"

Based on her newly unlocked memories, that was something she agreed with.

His laptop sang out then, the program giving long, loud, high pitched beeps as it detected movement on the detection grid that it determined to be hostile. Timmy walked over to his computer.

They were out there all right, all eight of them, in two groups of four approaching that would be both at the front and the back of the house in approximately twenty minutes. He heard the door to the bathroom open behind him and the thumping of feet as Molly ran over to the computer. She took one look at the computer screen and proceeded to swear inventively. After the torrent of swearing died down after about thirty seconds, she said, taking a deep breath, "Well, they outnumber us at about three to one odds, in two groups, I'm marking them the 'Eastern Force' and the 'Western Force.' respectively" She tapped out the commands and the two designations "EF" and "WF" showed up on the screen over the appropriate groups

Timmy nodded, his own fear rising in him as he fought to bring it under control. "It's not like running's an option. We need to hit them somehow."

"I agree," Molly said, her own anxiety ratcheted up, but with her voice kept subdued by far more experience than anyone of her years should have. "How?"

"There's no way we can take on all eight of them and survive," Trixie said. "Though…," and her eyes narrowed as she thought about it. "Can this tell me what group is led by Veronica itself?"

"Magitech Systems sensors are not _that _sensitive Trixie," Timmy found himself saying, in a slightly exasperated tone as he began to see what Trixie was driving at. "Why?"

Trixie didn't respond, but merely nodded. "Can this tell me which group will get here first?"

Molly, the alert expression in her eyes, cuing Timmy to the fact that she seemed to catch the same brainwave, nodded and tapped out the appropriate commands. The tactical overlay changed and she nodded. "The Western Force."

Trixie nodded, a devilish smile on her face, "If Veronica is really so stupid as to leave _that_ much distance between her flanking forces, I say we take advantage of it."

Timmy's eyes widened as he saw what Trixie was getting at, and he cursed himself for not seeing it as well. "If we hit them, there's a chance we can defeat each force in detail, or at the very least delay them until the police show up."

Timmy nodded, a smile appearing on his, a predatory smile appearing on his face. "Then by all means, let's pay them a visit." Before they left he grabbed Trixie and pulled her into a hard, bruising kiss. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

* * *

Trixie stalked through the darkened alleyways, her flashlight out as they moved through it. Given her druthers she'd rather have avoided stalking her way through alleyways at all. Two basically fourteen-year-old girls and a boy, all of them attractive and well-developed for their age, were entirely likely to attract the wrong kind of attention. But sticking to the streets was just as likely to attract the attention of law-enforcement, who would naturally wonder what said young people were doing out after dark in the middle of what looked to be a major power outage across Southern California. Alas, there was also no good way to explain what sent them out there, and leave dealing with Veronica and her ilk in the very capable hands of the Imperial County Sherriff's Office and the California Highway Patrol._I'd really rather be in bed, _she thought to herself, _or, more likely, gorging on junk food and watching one more movie before going to bed._

Then she found herself looking up, and stopped, dead in her tracks.

"Oh," she said softly, as she gazed up at the night sky. "My God."

The night sky, in which she almost never saw more than a few stars, suddenly seemed studded with thousands upon thousands of stars, and cutting through it all the glowing swath of gas that had been dubbed the Milky Way from time immemorial.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered softly.

"Never seen so many stars before, I take it?" Timmy said softly.

"No, I haven't," she said, still staring transfixed. "I mean I've seen it in pictures, but not with my own eyes; and pictures," she said, "don't do it justice."

"And all the more reason to survive," Molly said, walking up to her, putting a comradely hand on her shoulder. "You can't explore the unknown if you're dead or drooling in some care facility."

Trixie nodded as they set forward again, "That is true." She couldn't hide the anxiety on her voice though. They were going into battle against vicious thugs. Their ages were irrelevant to that. They weren't _children _anymore, and if they'd already gone this far their enemy wasn't going to be more likely to seek a peaceful solution or back out because they happened to be only a few years under a legal age that was arbitrary to begin with.

She shuddered. Completely committed or not, they weren't going to stop, and she didn't relish killing anyone of any age. She'd been in her fair share of scrapes though. She may not be in Molly's league as a trained fighter, but she'd do her best.

"Hey," she heard Timmy say, having walked up to her while Molly went on ahead. "We'll be fine."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because we took on a giant space creature together," Timmy said confidently. "And won." Then he smirked. "Besides, we have her. I saw her take on two high school football players/thugs who tried to mug her in a dark alley. Two basically full-grown men who were more than twice her mass, and she took them out in a minute."

Trixie had taken one look at Molly that morning and realized just how dangerous she was. This was _not _a young woman she'd want to run into in a dark alley, and as for any two for a dollar thug who got it into his or her head that she was easy prey, deserved whatever fate they got.

And since all Veronica had were two for dollar thugs…

_Hell, _she thought, feeling confident again for the first time in half an hour. _I almost feel sorry for the thugs. Almost._

Five minutes later, Trixie was looking down at the four thugs from the fire escape on an old tenement building, not entirely surprised to see Veronica being one of them. She had surrounded herself it seemed, with the three burliest armed young men she could find. All of them probably between sixteen and twenty, and all of them armed with lead pipes. She saw the way they looked at her, possessive with the occasional jealous glare at their "comrades" and realized just how Veronica got them all on her side.

_She was starting to develop a nasty skanky streak, _she thought, _no surprise she ran with it. Just like her really, to turn sex into a weapon._

"So, Ronnie," he heard one of them, the oldest, and under any other circumstances, most handsome say as they passed below them. "Are deal's still on, right? We help you deal with this bitch of yours, we get to keep her stuff, and I get your blonde ass in bed with me again."

She motioned the group to stop as she smiled at him, a smile dripping with that sappy sort of happiness she'd always found disgusting. "Oh, yes, Richard, she's very rich. Lots of money, jewels, stuff to sell."

"And what about her?" He said. "We've seen pictures of her. She's hot. I'm sure the guys wouldn't mind having fun with her." Trixie felt her gorge rise into her throat.

The smile turned into a death glare. "She I will deal with myself. Long and slowly. You can do whatever want to the other two though."

Based on what the looks they were giving each other, she had a pretty good idea of what they wanted to do to Molly before they killed her.

Judging by the fact that the looks on Timmy and Molly's faces were sliding rapidly towards homicidal, so did they.

Right when she expected them to start moving again, Richard said, "So, do you think this plan of yours will work?"

"Oh, yes," Veronica said calmly. "Our little feint should have fooled those spies the Turner boy must have into thinking that we're jumping stupid. Trixie will naturally want to take advantage of our so-called blunder. She and her friends will attack either this group or the one advancing on her house probably in the next minute or two."

"And when they do, our surprise friends will attack." Richard said, an evil little smile on his face.

Surprise friends, she found herself mouthing, only to find Molly and Timmy saying it at the same time. Trixie's eyes begin flicking around, looking for anyone. Then she caught it, a shadow moving in the window of the building across the street.

"Got one," she said softly. "Twelve o'clock."

"I got one in my three o'clock," Timmy said.

"And I got one in my nine o'clock," Molly said. "She suckered us,"

"Yup," Timmy said, "and that's why their waiting."

_God, I wish we could just call the police and end this, _she thought to herself. Then it occurred to her. _Police… _

"I got it."

* * *

"Hey, shitheads," Molly said darkly as she dropped down and dropped into a combat stance, Timmy and Trixie as dropped into the left of her. "We couldn't help but overhear your little plan."

"You!" Veronica spat, quivering almost with rage.

"Yeah," Trixie sneered from next to her. "Us. You want to torture me to death while your goons rape and murder my friends? Then by all means do your worst, I'm tired of running and we're ending this tonight."

"Yes, we are," Veronica spat out with a glare, as the doors opened in front and next to them opened.

"Get them," she said simply and twelve men and women rushed them at once.

Molly's training in the martial arts from the age of eight had been focused on historical reconstruction of European martial arts. Not the flamboyant stage sword fighting or competition fencing of the modern day, but how swordsmen were actually trained according to three century old fighting manuals. Aside from the Italian style of swordsmanship, with its use of the sword as an offensive weapon and the dagger as a defensive weapon, she, as a swordsman of the seventeenth-century would have been trained, could defend herself with staff, baton, and in unarmed combat. Granted, it was only in the last three or so years that she'd gotten tall enough or strong enough to where the other styles could be seriously integrated into her training, but she'd thrown herself into those aspects of her training with all the drive her mother (who'd pinched pennies to keep up her training as an alternative to her daughter turning to street crime or prostitution in order to put food in her belly) had instilled in her.

And three years of training was more than what these clowns had, but they were still doing their level best to kill her. So she wasn't going to pull her punches like she did with those football players moonlighting as bullies. And unlike in the movies, in real life martial arts, the first accurate hit led to either death or crippling depending on where the hit landed, which is why it was clearly stressed by every responsible martial arts school that it _wasn't _a game, and it was more than just a somewhat more exotic way of non-lethally fending off an attacker to allow one to escape. It could be used that way, but the nature of martial arts was _martial, _it was meant to be used on the battlefield.

Not that she planned on killing anyone today, the thought of killing even this scum in self-defense made her sick to her stomach. But she would if she absolutely had too.

Molly's whip kick lashed and drove a steel-toed boot into the right leg of a woman coming at her with a lead pipe. Her enemy gave a high pitched scream as she dropped her pipe and went down, clutching at her now artistically rearranged leg. Molly bolted, heading out of the alleyway as Timmy and Trixie fought their way clear and bolted towards the alley.

The three ran down the alley and out into the darkened streets, doubling back toward the residential neighborhood. They were halfway down Elm Street when she felt the rush of air over her ear as the first fist sized rocks started coming past them.

"You know!" Molly shouted to Trixie after the third rock nearly hit her in the shoulder. "Now would be a _really _good time to make that call."

"I couldn't agree more!" Trixie's cellphone flew open and a few button presses later, the text containing her wish was sent to Timmy's laptop.

Thirty seconds later Swizzle's huried voice came over her bud communicator. "_Molly, Emma's done it, someone looked out their window at the right time to see your predicament. 911's been called and the police are on their way. ETA ten minutes. Now we have to go, the rest of their…friends are already climbing the fence. Good luck." _Then the bud cut out.

_Hopefully we can last ten minutes._

A heartbeat later, a lance of fear went through her heart as she heard Timmy give a pained shout as a rock finally landed. She saw him stumble out of the corner of her eye.

"Timmy!"

Molly stopped and ran back, Trixie on her tail as she kneeled down next to Timmy. She grimaced at the site of his distorted leg.

"Molly, damn it GO! Get Trixie out of here!"

"No!" Molly shouted back through a haze of adrenaline. She grabbed Timmy's arm and slung it around her shoulder even as she watched the enemy close.

"No!" Timmy said. "There's no way you can carry me and survive."

"Even if we ran off by ourselves we'd be outnumbered six to one," Molly shouted back, "We're dead anyway! I won't last more than a couple minutes against that, and neither will Trixie."

"She's right," Trixie interjected. "This is it!"

She saw Trixie move and looked to see her walking in front of them.

"What are you-," she shouted.

"_Wait!_" she heard Trixie shriek at the top of her lungs.

The onrushing gang stopped in confusion, less from the fact that she shouted and more to the fact that they stopped running.

"Veronica!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. "If you let my boyfriend and my friend go, I'll give myself up to you! I know you want me alive."

"What are you doing?!" Molly and Timmy both said through gritted teeth at the same time.

"I can't let them kill you two," Trixie said softly, turning and giving them all a mournful look. "And since there's no way help's going to arrive in time, this is your _only _hope."

"You don't honestly expect them to keep their word do you?" Timmy blurted out, desperation and fear on his voice.

"Do we have any other choice?"

The mob stirred as Veronica pushed through. "You'll come willingly?" She said, staring at her as if she couldn't quite believe it. "Right now?"

Through her watering eyes Molly could make out Trixie nodding.

Veronica smiled evilly, and in that moment Molly knew that however long it took, she would make Veronica pay for what she was about to do. _I won't have to, _as she realized that there were people watching out of the windows_. There are too many witnesses you stupid bitch. You think the intensive manhunt _won't _ferret you out eventually?_

She motioned to the two men standing next to her on either side. "Take her, and let's get out of here."

_There's no way you're getting away with this now,_ she thought to herself_, the days of people chalking this up to "kids just being kids and exaggerating the problem" are over._ Unable to stand it any longer, she squeezed her eyes shut as tears streamed down the words came to her, _Blessed are those that are persecuted for righteousness sake_ _for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven._

She doubted very much that in that very moment, that very hour, there was a human being alive more persecuted than Beatrix Tang.

She heard it then, the sound of a helicopter's blades whirring as they sliced through the air. She opened her eyes as the sound got louder and louder and she looked up to see a helicopter hovering directly above them. A heartbeat later its searchlight flared to life, illuminating the area like the wrath of God Himself.

The goons approaching Trixie bolted off down an alley even as the other thugs, including Richard, scattered in all direction. Very quickly Veronica was left alone, standing like a deer in the headlights as the searchlight trained on her. As she stood Timmy and herself up, Molly couldn't help but what caliber assault rifle, and how many, were trained on Veronica's head as well.

"_Put your hands on your head and cross your ankles now!" _An amplified, and angry, male voice shouted from the helicopter.

Veronica like a gnarly tree falling at last, dropped to her knees like a stone, crossing her ankles over each other and putting her hands on her head.

In the distance, the wail of police sirens began.

_Three Days Later_

Timmy sighed as hobbled into Trixie's living room, his crutches in his hands. He stopped himself short, as he looked around him. The mess Veronica's Eastern Force had made by smashing everything they couldn't take with them had largely been cleaned up. It left the room bare though, as though the universe hadn't simply been content with taking her father, but it had to destroy every memory they created.

_Not that I'm _that _surprised,_ he thought to himself. _It left us with Vicky after all. _He smirked. If Vicky could be overcome, so could this.

_Especially if she has me._

"Timmy," a blessedly familiar voice said from the other end, and he looked up to see Trixie walking down the base of the stairs. She rushed down the stairs and threw her arms around him.

"Hey," Trixie said. "What are you doing here?"

"To see how you're holding up"

"I'll live," Trixie said, sighing.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to her. Trixie leaned into his kiss, and they stood there, lost in each other, for a long time. "Hey, you'll always have me, whatever happens."

"And me," another voice said from behind him. He turned and smiled as Molly entered the room. Trixie turned and smiled at their mutual friend as well. Molly put her hand on both their shoulders.

"No matter what."


	5. The Significance of a Single Day

Chapter Five

The Significance of a Single Day

"Not to know what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child."

-Cicero

_The Present Day,_

Trixie leaned back in her chair in the church nave and smiled at her boyfriend and her friend. "I'm glad I met you both. I wish we we'd finally come together when we weren't being hounded by a psychotic bitch, but still."

Timmy shuddered dramatically. "That's one experience I don't want too much of. Come to think of it, one is too many."

Silence reigned in the church once more, and looked as Molly glanced around the church, obviously appreciating what she was looking at, both in the reverence for the dead and the church itself. Molly had been baptized an Episcopalian, just as Trixie herself had been, and while neither one of them was terribly observant, their faith was there. She gathered it was the first time she'd been in a church of her denomination in a long time.

After a long moment, Molly spoke up. "Unfortunately it didn't end that night. We had to contend with the twelve month media circus surrounding it."

She shuddered dramatically herself. The Dimmsdale Incident, as the media had quickly branded it, had shocked the world. Their names had been withheld in the mainstream news reports, but the circumstantial evidence had made their identities easy to determine. The blogosphere had spent the entire time dredging up every detail about all three of them, and splashing it up on the internet. That was the undoubted right of a free press, but it still stung. It especially stung to be referred to as a vapid bitch who's "rampant capitalistic greed and arrogance of wealth" had pushed a "vulnerable girl" into snapping against her "oppressor." One of the few silver linings, however, is that it finally forced society to acknowledge that "teens" were not children and that they couldn't just chalk up everything they did to "immature brain development" and leave it at that. Veronica had ended up being tried as an adult, and she wasn't getting out of prison for a _very _long time.

The violence hadn't ended that night, unfortunately it had spread out across the continent from Dimmsdale as virtually the entire Red Wolf gang from both the Eastern and Western groups had eluded the police cordon and scattered. It took a full two weeks to account for all of them, and only four had been taken alive. The rest died in a series of violent confrontations with police as far away as Ontario.

Timmy smirked. "But the year after it was all said and done was actually a good year."

Molly smirked, a forlorn, but happy look on her face. "It was a Golden Age, the three of us were actually on the verge of graduating high school at sixteen. The two of you were happily in love, and I was closer to you both then ever."

"But God, it seems, was only allowing us a respite."

Trixie nodded, feeling queasy as she remembered that seemingly innocuous day in school, innocuous at least compared to the titanic series of events that had followed later.

"I remember that day in school," she began. "The history teacher was late…"

_One Year Ago_

Sweat stuck the back of Beatrix Tang's shirt to her back and bra as she slunk deeper into her chair between Timmy and Molly. It was a hot day, a very hot day, one of those days with highs in the nineties that were as ubiquitous as dirt in Southern California as it inched closer and closer to summer.

"For the love of God," she heard a male voice cry out from behind her. "Where is the old fart?"

She saw Molly clench her fist out of the corner of her eye and reached out to put her hand on her friend's shoulder. The mutual best friend of both her and Timmy (though she was still closer to Timmy then she was to her) liked Richard Mazzare for a variety of reasons, not the least of which of which because the sixty-year-old man gave no sign of being either put off by her advanced intelligence, nor was he one to condescend to her because of her age.

She'd been known to react harshly to people who insulted him. Usually it went no further than shrieking and swearing. Usually.

_Leaving aside calling him an old fart, where _is _he anyway, _she thought. _It's already twenty minutes into classtime._ She looked around him. The back of the class hooligans were already starting their loud conversation about how much they drank and what "asses they tapped." Three couples had started making out and the half of the rest were making noises about leaving.

_And the natives are getting restless._

"What were we supposed to be covering again?" She found herself asking.

"The origins of the First World War." Timmy responded.

Molly's chair grunted as it's occupant stood up from it with such force that she knocked the glasses off the young woman on her right. At her shouts of protest, Molly leaned down and picked up her glasses and handed them back before she grabbed her books and went up to the desk.

A few of the students, who hadn't noticed what she was doing, stood up and grabbed their backpacks.

"This is bullshit," one of them, a girl, said, "Let's get out of here."

The flat of Molly's hand slammed down against Mazzarre's desk, the report echoing throughout the room. "Whoever leaves the room before either Oversteegen or Hauptman shows up to formally let us out or Mazzare shows up will have to answer to me personally!"

The three girls slid back into their seats. After a moment, the back room gang started up again.

"Shut the fuck up!" Her voice snapped over their talking. "You can be alcohol abusing jerks bragging about how many "bitches" you've nailed on your own goddamn time! You will shut up right now, you will not say one more goddamn word that isn't a question about what I'm about to tell you, and don't either one of you _think_ of leaving before the end of class time, unless it's an emergency. Your puppy had better have been run over or you or a member of your immediate family better have bone sticking out of your skin or so help me I will _make _bone stick out of your skin! Do you understand me? Or has all that pot and alcohol addled your brain to the point that between you all you don't even have _one_ brain cell to rub against the inside of your skull?"

The back of the room stared at her in shock before closing their mouths slowly. After a long moment of her pinning them to their chairs she nodded.

"Good." She walked over and pulled down the map hanging over the chalkboard. "Now, I don't have Richard Mazzare's slides and presentation notes but I _do _have my own PowerPoint on the subject I created when I was bored." She used the student login to get into the computer on the desk and shoved a flash drive into the computer, after a few minutes, she'd had her presentation open. In the minute before the Windows browser closed she noticed half a dozen other PowerPoints in among her other documents.

Trixie found herself shaking her head in surprise. _She really does over prepare doesn't she?_

"Now," she began. "The ultimate causes of the war were decades if not centuries in the making, so I will give a brief overview of the background." She pointed out Germany on the map of Europe. "How many have you been to Germany?" She raised her hand

Trixie, who'd been to Düsseldorf on more than one occasion since they had agreed to partner with Rheinmetall providing many of the electronics and fire control systems for their latest line of UAVs, raised her hand. A smattering of other students followed suit. Even one of the hooligans at the back.

"Good," she said, bringing up a slide showing a black mass in central Europe from the border of Denmark to Northern Italy. "Now, the nation we know as Germany didn't exist for most of history since the fall of the Roman Empire. 'Germany' was simply the name of the general cultural region inhabited by numerous different small duchies, principalities, kingdoms, and city-states that spoke the same basic language and shared largely the same culture. To use Churchill's words on India, 'It was no more a united country than the Equator'. Now there were a couple failed attempts to unite the German peoples prior to 1871, both by French guys. The Holy Roman Empire was one such attempt. It…didn't pan out. Apart from a few strong Emperors like Charlemagne it was a failed state for the majority of its existence. Another attempt, also imposed from outside," she switched over to another slide showing a somewhat smaller blue mass, "was the First French Empire's Confederation of the Rhine created by Napoleon I Bonaparte. An attempt that, didn't survive the collapse of the Empire."

She switched over to a map that was recognizably closer to that of Germany today, albeit somewhat larger, with the color representing the German state spreading over territory that today was part of Poland to border directly against Russia. She then switched over to a closer map showing armies and formations moving out of Germany into France.

"The German state as we recognize it today was formed under the leadership of the most powerful of the German kingdoms at the time, Prussia. Starting in 1866 she defeated Austria, her traditional rival for control of Central Europe, then moved on to consolidate the rest of the German states towards a politically unified federation similar in some respects to our own, albeit with monarchies. This culminated four years later in a highly successful war on the part of Prussia's North German Confederation against the Second French Empire of Napoleon III. And by 'highly successful' I mean _highly _successful. Within nine months the Germans had captured Napoleon III, triggered the collapse of the final French monarchy, and captured Paris, forcing French surrender."

"The remaining German states signed on with the North German Confederation and in September of 1871, in the former palace of the French kings, Wilhelm I, king of Prussia was declared Wilhelm I, German Emperor, and a federal German Empire was created." She turned on a scene she recognized from said museum in Düsseldorf, a painting of Otto von Bismarck in the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles, everyone's swords out and pointed upward in triumph as they hailed their new Emperor before them.

Trixie couldn't help but think back to Palpatine's Declaration of a New Order_._

The implications weren't lost on Timmy either. "'For a safe and secure society!'" He muttered in her ear.

"France was forced to cede to this new German Empire the predominately German-speaking area of Alsace-Lorraine as well as pay five billion francs in war indemnity. With the British Empire not particularly interested in exerting any influence over continental Eurasia outside the Asian part, and the newborn French Third Republic humiliated, the German Empire became the foremost European power."

"Now," she said, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Germany's behavior in the first forty years of her life can be likened to the new girl in school, eager to prove her worth both to herself and her peers. Jealous of the most popular girl in school, Great Britain, and desiring a colonial Empire of her very own, she seized concessions in Tsingtao in China, some scattered Pacific colonies, and some of the last territory in Africa that was available." Maps of each of those locations showed up on the screen one after the other. "Then she spent vast amounts of her money building a Navy that was far in excess of what she needed to police her own colonies, purely as a vanity project to match the Royal Navy, which naturally forced the Royal Navy to expand to match, as it was their policy to have a stronger navy then the next three navies after them in terms of size, not to mention several confrontations with all three nations in the decade right before the start of the war. Between that, her rivalries with France and Russia, and several additional disputes in the final decade before the war, she'd created a powderkeg that only awaited the spark."

"That spark came on June 28, 1914. Every summer the Austro-Hungarian Army conducted training maneuvers. The summer maneuvers of 1914 were to be centered on the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Corps in Bosnia. In March it had been announced that the heir to the Habsburg throne of Austria-Hungary, Franz Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria-Este and his wife Sophie, the Duchess of Hohenberg would attend the maneuvers and would visit Sarajevo." She flipped on a black and white picture of a man, a woman, and three children.

The man, with close cut hair and a noticeably large handlebar moustache was standing, the woman, clearly his wife, was sitting, with his daughter and sons standing and sitting in front of them. "This picture was taken about 1910. The guy with the short cropped hair and the moustache is Franz Ferdinand. The woman sitting down next to him is Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg. Of the three children, the eldest, the girl standing is Princess Sophie the Younger, about nine when this photo would have been taken, the boy standing next to his mother is the next eldest child, Prince Maximilian, and the little boy siting down is the youngest, Prince Ernst. Just four years later, Archduke Ferdinand and Duchess Hohenberg would lay dead, the victims of two terrorist groups acting under the cover of a third. One was a Serbian irredentist terrorist group buried in the ranks of Serbian intelligence called the Black Hand, the other a bunch of college students called the Young Bosnians. It's leader was the Chief of Serbian intelligence, Colonel Dragutin Dimitrijevic, code-named Apis. It was on his orders that the assassination was to be carried out, and he was the one who recruited three members of the college radical group to carry it out: All Austro-Hungarian subjects from Bosnia and all going to school in Belgrade, the capital of Serbia then and now."

She sighed, and a faraway look appeared in her eyes. "And on June 28, 1914, upon their visit to Sarajevo, after surviving one assassination attempt earlier that day, the Archduke's driver got confused on the route he was supposed to be taking, and right in front of a young man, Gavrilo Princip, not yet twenty, who'd missed his earlier chance that day, and assuming any further assassination attempts were now impossible, abandoned the plan and walked off into a sandwich. He was just walking out of the deli when their car pulled up in front of him. Not believing his good fortune he dropped his sandwich, pulled his pistol out of his coat and fired point-blank into their car. Sophie was dead within a couple minutes, and her husband died on his way to back to the governor's mansion. After that events proceeded quickly to war. Germany backed Austria-Hungary in an ultimatum in Serbia where it was to crackdown on free speech regarding Serb irredentism. When Serbia took too long to agree, Austrian artillery shelled Belgrade. Germany declared war on Russia and France and moved to occupy Belgium to prepare it's invasion of France, prompting Britain to declare war on Germany." She shook her head. "You know-,"

She was interrupted by the sound of feet outside the door and the door next to the teacher's desk turned to show Caroline Hauptman opening the door and sticking her head in. The blonde, late thirtyish vice principal, was short compared to most of the younger women in that class. At five foot seven, Trixie was taller than her by a good four inches. Oversteegen and Hauptman had both been moved up from the middle school to Dimmsdale High. She was glad, they were good at their jobs, however badly they'd been dragged through the mud as a result of the Dimmsdale Incident, when media on both sides of the aisle politically had fired into them due to their supposed failure to "rein in" Veronica, and thereby preventing the week of violent firefights in the United States and Canada.

She wasn't surprised however. Veronica's actions and how she'd carried them out had defied every established theory as to the causes of violence in young people. Her family hadn't been neglectful or abusive. She hadn't suffered from low self-esteem. She hadn't been bullied herself, rather had always been a bully, just as Trixie herself had once been. She was walking proof that low self-esteem and violent behavior weren't linked, and that young people were capable of complex planning. It was no surprise the media seized upon anything they could to pin responsibility on.

She herself had come out in support of them., personally walking over to a press mob outside Oversteegen's house and making a statement. Loudly. _There really _was _nothing much they could do. It wasn't so much that they didn't take the situation seriously, they did they just couldn't _prove it _in a way that would satisfy Veronica's_ _parents, and the police. _

At the moment, Hauptman was looking at Molly with a surprised look on her face. Surprised, but not condemning. If anything she looked amused. Shaking her head, Trixie could have sworn she heard her mutter "Why am I not surprised," under her breath.

She sighed, and turned away from Molly to face the rest of the class. "Class," she said, her eyes downcast. "I hate to have to be the ones to point this out, but," and she sighed, as if physically unable to say what happened next. And she felt her heart begin to sink. "Mister Mazarre has been in a car accident. He's at the UC San Diego Medical Center."

Immediately the class started up again, this time with more than a hint of worry in them. Despite their reaction to his tardiness, he _was _genuinely popular with his students.

Molly, still standing at the head of the class, looked crestfallen.

"I can't believe he's in the hospital," Timmy heard Molly say as the three of them moved into the hallway from the rapidly emptying classroom. She shook her head, the worry for her unofficial mentor when it came to history clear on her face. "I should go see him. I have half a mind to hop on my motorcycle and go now. School's out for the day anyway."

Timmy was only half-paying attention to Molly. There was something wrong, an undercurrent of fear was running through the crowds. All the godchildren in Dimmsdale who'd reached physical maturity, all thirty of them after Timmy, Molly, and Trixie, were milling about in the corridor. Waiting for him.

"Something's wrong," Timmy said, and Molly and Trixie fell silent, noticing the change.

Looking around he beckoned the nearest one, a pretty sixteen-year-old with olive skin and raven black hair.

"Karen," he asked, his own voice taut with the experience keeping his fear in check. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, sir," Karen Oliveras said harshly, looking around her. "Our godparents apparently received some message from Fairy World and started pulling out about an hour ago." She sighed, and an apprehensive look appeared on her face. Apparently some of the others overheard them saying SNAKE PIT."

"Shit," Trixie swore. He looked down to realize that Cosmo and Wanda were gone from his pocket. _They were with Poof this morning, _he thought to himself. _They must have been caught in Fairy World when the lockdown went into effect._

SNAKE PIT was the contingency plan that went into effect whenever FairyWorld detected a new timeline forming. Upon the formal receipt of the order for SNAKE PIT, all godchildren, who were protected from changes in the timeline, were to be transported immediately to secluded bases, and from there they were to assess the situation, and then, under the command of the senior godchild (he or she who had had their godparent the longest) in their sector, carry out operations to restore the previous timeline.

And one Timothy Turner was the senior godchild for Southern California, Baja California, and Baja California Sur.

He opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the automated message coming in over his bud communicator.

_"PRIORITY * PRIORITY * PRIORITY * PRIORITY * PRIORITY* This is a priority message to all Godchildren worldwide. Message begins: The Director of Emergency Operations has issued an emergency activation order. A new timeline is in the process of forming, and Contingency SNAKE PIT has been activated. All fairies have been withdrawn from Earth. All godchildren will be transported to their mustering bases upon termination of this message. Please report to your chain of command as defined by the senior godchild in your sector of operations and carry out SNAKE PIT contingency orders as soon as possible._

_ Message Ends._

Abruptly reality around them began to… fizzle. There were no other words to describe it, as creation itself seemed to wink out of existence for a fraction of a second.

Then Creation came back, but not the same as before.

Timmy stared around her, he, his lover, his best friend, and all the other godchildren in Dimmsdale of high school age were standing in burnt out ruin. The hallway that had just seconds ago to them been full of a hundred other students in addition to them was now a charred ruin.

And it wasn't new damage. The walls were covered in what was clearly old soot, and the lockers that were strewn about and horribly mangled were rusted.

"What the hell happened?" Molly whispered, no longer bothering to disguise the fear on her voice.

"I don't know," Timmy said, trying desperately to project confidence that wasn't there no his voice as he turned around to view both the women he loved, albeit in different ways.

"But we're going to find out."

A heartbeat later they were whisked away in a flash of golden light.


	6. An Hour of Wolves and Shattered Shields

Chapter Six

An Hour of Wolves and Shattered Shields

"I wandered through the wrecks of days departed."

-Percy Bysshe Shelly _The Revolt of Islam_, "Canto 2"

Margaret Potter caught the rubber ball as it bounced back to her hand from the wall. Molly found herself expecting the sting each time she threw the ball back against the wall, growing to relish it even: it was the only proof that the world she still lived in was real, and not some horrific nightmare from which she would never awaken. They didn't have much information yet, most of them were still trying to get the base back up and running, a process that took about forty-eight hours, but the information they _did _have was not positive. Every godchild who had been coherent upon coming in from the wrecks of their civilization had reported much of the same as what she, Timmy, and Trixie had seen with their own eyes: their cities burned out and abandoned, forests and fields burned shadows of what they used to be in the other timeline.

What was even more troublesome was the reports she'd seen of bodacian aircraft flying grid search patterns over human cities.

_What are they doing here?_ she thought to herself, as the implications chilled her to the bone. _Are they responsible for all this? _

Her instincts screamed at her yes, but there was more going on here. And if there was anything guaranteed to keep Margaret Claire Potter awake at night, after sex and the presence of someone or something that urgently needed to be beaten into a pulp, it was a mystery. In point of fact that was why she'd retreated to her quarters. With everything that had been going on, she needed some time to herself, _any _time to herself, in order to put her thoughts together lest she go insane.

The ball had slammed itself back against her hand for the umpteenth time that night when she was interrupted by the sound of a fist rapping on metal.

"Come in," she said, suppressing her anxious desire to be alone and not bothering to ask who it was. Timmy rapped twice on any given door, whereas Trixie rapped three or four times in rapid succession. The door opened to reveal Timmy standing there, a faint look of concern on his face.

"Hey,"

Molly sighed and continued throwing her ball. "Hey."

"Hey," Timmy said. "I came to check up on you. You seemed to be rather shaken up earlier."

_If by shaken up, you mean biting Trixie and Karen's heads off and storming out of Operations in a huff you're not far wrong, _she thought.

"Gee," she snapped, hot anger boiling up from inside her, "having everything you've ever known and loved suddenly replaced by a timeline where it had all been destroyed since probably before you were born does that to a woman." As soon as the words had tumbled out of her mouth, she'd realized what she said and who she said it too, she forced her mouth shut, her face reddening in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Timmy," she said, staring down at the comforter in her shame. "I don't know what got into me. I'm not used to situations like this. We read about them, we train to react to them, but actually seeing them outside of science fiction or a training manual." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm just used to defending a functioning civilization. This is the first time I've ever had to face the notion of fighting to simply regain what we lost."

Timmy nodded. "I know how that feels."

Molly stared at him in wonder for a moment before comprehension dawned in her eyes. "Right, you had to deal with your own shitty timelines and alternate futures before haven't you?"

"It was before your time, though," Timmy said.

"Yeah."

"Again, I'm sorry for snapping at you," Molly said, shaking her head.

Timmy smiled. "It's fine."

"And how are you and Trixie holding up?"

"Trixie's just as…flustered as you are. Sure, I've altered the timeline a few times, times she was indirectly involved in, but this is the first time that's in unambiguously happened and she's caught up in the middle of it with us." With that, Timmy walked over and sat next to her on the bed. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he said. "Hey, we'll all be fine."

She looked at her best friend. "I know we will, Timmy." She sighed. "I suppose I just needed to hear it."

Timmy smirked, and leaned in, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead in the manner of a friend. "You'll be fine, my friend. You have been my trusted right arm for five years. You're the bravest woman Trixie or I know. And I know that together, the three of us, we will fix this."

Molly, her heart burning even as her vision of Timmy blurred with tears, lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him. Her stocky, athlete's arms pressing him(who was no spindly weakling himself, being a quarterback on the football team) close to her.

"You're the best friend I ever had," Molly said softly. "It may have taken a year for it to stick, but meeting you in rehab turned out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You're the best friend I ever had, and I love you for it. Not in the way that you and Trixie love each other, but I love you nonetheless."

"I love you too," Timmy said softly. "Old friend."

She disentangled herself from her friend's arms. "I think I'm ready to go back to work now."

Timmy smirked. "Good. As I seem to recall, you owe Trixie and Karen an apology." His eyes narrowed at her in reawakened irritation. "Seriously."

She sighed, shame resonating within her. She'd been…decidedly less than congenial on the way out the door, especially to Trixie. _Let's see, _a scathing voice said in her head. _You snapped at Karen, and threatened to break Trixie's arm if she didn't let go of you when she tried to stop you to see what was wrong. _

"Come on, Timmy," Molly said, getting up off the bed and walking towards the door. "We have work to do, and I owe two people an apology."

"Yes, you do," Timmy responded as he got off the bed to join her.

Beatrix Tang Minghui swayed in her chair as she sat in her small office overlooking the first floor, her eyes feeling like they were being dragged by lead weights. Unbidden her mouth broke open in a wide yawn. She pitched forward in her chair, getting up from her desk and walking to the entrance to look down at the crews working diligently in the core below. Molly, as per her position as Timmy's second-in-command, was diligently (and simultaneously) overseeing the crew's efforts to get a handle on any evidence they could find of what had fouled up the timeline and to get a handle on the disposition of the bodacian forces across the planet.

Trixie sighed, wandering back to her seat as her mind briefly wondered what Timmy did to get Molly out of the angry shell she'd withdrawn into. Another woman would have been suspicious of what Timmy had to do to cause Molly to relax, but she knew Molly, knew that she would never go behind another woman's back. And Timmy wasn't the type of man to go behind a woman's back in a haze of hormones and stupidity.

_Besides, I love him, and he loves me, and I don't think that's going to change_, she thought, smiling to herself.

"Shit!" Molly shouted from downstairs, "why didn't I think of this before?!"

_She's found something, _she thought, getting back out of her chair and heading out the door and heading for the stairs. "What is it?" she shouted from the landing as she hit the stairs. Even as Timmy stepped out of his office and walked towards her.

Molly sighed. "Our operatives in New England first twigged onto it. A direct action team ran across a _Greenwich Times _article from the 1960s talking about an unexploded Second World War bomb. In Harlem."

_She can't mean-no, _Unwilling to believe it, she shook her head. "Well, the Netherlands were-,"

Molly shook her head. "Not H_aa_rlem," she said emphasizing the two As in the Dutch namesake for the neighborhood in Manhattan. Harlem. _Our_ Harlem. As a matter of fact the very same article makes references to German bombing raids taking place in the spring and summer of _1942_."  
"How's that possible?" Timmy blurted out, eyes widening.

Molly shook her head. "Because alternate timelines suck. But at least we have a better idea of where to start looking." Molly sighed. "Sir," she said, speaking to Timmy. "We need more information, and I think the best way to get that is to send one of our own direct action teams out. Hopefully we can find a library somewhere, get inside it, grab some history books written in this timeline."

Trixie tensed, she figured that was probably going to happen the second Molly told her about the article. The problem wasn't with the idea, she'd been thinking along those lines herself, it was just the fact that the Direct Action teams were hers to command.

And this would be the first time she'd seen genuine combat in nearly three years. While she'd had more combat experience then she thought she did after her memories were unlocked, it had all been in furious melees with minimum of skill, closer to a Wild West shootout then a conventional battle. And no amount of the study and drill and wargames with which she'd spent much of her free time over the past two years since the post-Veronica reforms to the Godchild system were going to substitute for actual experience.

"I'm willing to do it," Trixie said, nodding. "Wherever we go we're going to have to sneak in. The Direct Action teams are trained as light infantry. We won't be able to fight a conventional battle with a fully armed and equipped bodacian force."

Timmy sighed, and nodded, his eyes alight with both worry and pride, but mostly worry.

"Molly," she said turning towards their friend. "We need to pick a target."

Molly, her own face a mask of worry, fear and pride, nodded. "Diego," she said loudly, catching the attention of one of the people manning a console, a dark-haired, tawny skinned young man. "Get me a map of Imperial County. Karen," Molly said, "I want recon flights over Dimmsdale now, your best stealth aircraft, tell them _not _to engage the enemy, I need to know how closely the layout of what's left of the city matches our own maps…"

Timmy put the cup of Cherry Coke to his lips and took a long sip of it as he sat at the heavy oak desk in his quarters. With it's own sitting area, dining table, king sized bed and separate bathroom, only the commander and his/her second-in-command had rooms like this, and Molly's was only slightly less opulent. _Because when you have magic you can live in comfort, _he thought as he sat at the desk. He sighed, resisting the urge to pace with the worry that burned like a brand to his skin.

_I'm sending her into a Dimmsdale heavily occupied by the enemy, _he thought to himself. _I've sent her off to die. _He shook his head. _Trixie's good at her job, if anyone can get the information and get herself and her men back alive, it's her. Otherwise I never would have put her in command of the direct action teams._

He tensed slightly when he heard the stream of water from the shower stop. After a few minutes the door opened to reveal Trixie, still somewhat damp and clad in a lime-green bathrobe.

"How was your shower?" He asked, somewhat distracted by the bathrobe, the damp cloth of which was emphasizing some…interesting contours.

"Good," Trixie said as she walked over to the desk and sitting herself on the edge. "I'm just…a little on edge is all."

"Hey," Timmy said softly. "You'll do fine."

Trixie swallowed. "You say that now, but I can't help but see the bodacians bombing us backto the Stone Age or surrounding us and blasting us all over hell or-," Trixie's voice began to speed up even as she begin to quiver where she sat, as the pre-battle nerves began to get the better of her.

Timmy reached up and wrapped his arms around her, enfolding the woman he loved into his embrace. Trixie's arms wrapped around him fiercely.  
"You'll be fine," Timmy said into her ear. "We've all gone through this more than once on the eve of battle."

"I know," Trixie said, still quivering in his arms. "It's just, this is my first real mission where've I actually had others counting on me to get them back home alive. I mean, intellectually, I know I'm prepared for it, but," he felt her shake her head. "God I-."

Trixie abruptly froze against him as she forced her shaky muscles back under control. Tightening her arms around him she breathed out once more. "I _can_ do this, Timmy," she said. "Don't think that I'm unable or unwilling."

Disentangling himself enough for him to move he leaned in to kiss her softly on the mouth, Trixie leaning into him. After a moment he broke the kiss, running a hand softly through her black hair. "I could never think that."

Trixie beamed at her and leaned forward, taking his mouth against hers hungrily.


End file.
